... And Many More

Today is your birthday, your most favourite time of the year. If you were still here with us, you'd be celebrating your 45th birthday, which is a decent milestone. We'd probably laugh and call you old, teasing you for whatever new ache you had. We'd sing the happy birthday song and end with the words "and many more..."

Sometimes we say words without realizing how much of a quiet prayer they are. Or we say them not expecting that we need to consider them such a hopeful wish.

Because sometimes "many more" becomes "no more."

And no more is the saddest birthday of all.